Bailemos!
by XanonymousXX
Summary: Lovino was always a clumsy child. Unknown, he suffered from Chorea. However, with mounting pressure from his Queen, Antonio had to figure out a way to tame and teach the unruly, clumsy colony. He did so with the only way he knew how - through music and dance. "Bailemos, Roma! Like the gypsies and the commonfolk, let us dance."


A crash was definitely not the way Antonio had intended to awaken that day.

His hand immediately shot under his pillow, gripping his sword. Was the palace under attack? Had the invaders broken a window?

Seeing nothing around his room, Antonio jumped up. Lovino wasn't in the room either… Oh no, had he been kidnapped?!

Disoriented, Antonio found himself tripping over his own two feet as he ran out the door, only to come across a frozen-in-place Lovino, trembling slightly as he stood in the middle of a shattered vase.

"Spain! You bastard, help me!" The delicate porcelain was scattered all over him, threatening to cut up the little colony if he moved even a centimeter.

Antonio was quick to react, carefully picking his way through the shards before he plucked Lovino off the ground and carried him to safety. He set him down immediately after, not wanting to be the target of his next headbutt.

"Okay, _pequeño_ , what happened this time?" Gentle green eyes attempted to make contact with flustered hazel ones, but to no avail.

"I tripped. It was your stupid floor's fault!" Lovino spat at him, trying to maintain whatever dignity he had left.

Antonio frowned, crouching down next to him.

"Romano, this is the third time something like this happened this week. You know I had the floors polished and leveled the first time, so it's definitely something else," Antonio sighed, growing rather frustrated as he scooted closer to him.

It had been a number of years since Lovino had started living with him, but they hardly seemed to be making any progress whatsoever.

It was putting him on edge, and the constant nagging him his Queen to tame the unruly, clumsy colony was not helping, either.

"Roma, talk to me. What exactly happened? Did something scare you again?"

"Fuck you! I said nothing happened a-and this is all your fault!" Lovino screeched at him, before promptly kicking the concerned Spaniard in the face and running off into the gardens.

Groaning, Antonio gingerly touched his head and sat up.

Well, so much for that…

* * *

"I just don't understand what's wrong with him! I've tried everything, Marie! He's not responding to anything I do!"

Currently, a very concerned Belgium was attempting to calm down an equally agitated Spain.

"Have you tried talking to him? Ask him what exactly is bothering him?" Marie murmured soothingly, thinking about the poor Italian. In a foreign country, having to assimilate into a completely different culture and everything. It must have been hard for the poor kid.

"Of course I have," Antonio huffed, stopping for a moment to think and half-heartedly glare at her. "He just huffs and replies 'everything' before headbutting me and getting out of the room!"

"Well, I see he learned something from you, at least," she muttered under her breath, continuing to observe his agitated behaviour.

"I swear I'm getting a concussion from that little _diablo's_ headbutting…"

"Maybe he needs more time. His people have started to settle under your rule, so his behaviour is bound to change sooner or later," she soothed gently, casting a sympathetic look at the pacing Spaniard.

"More time? Marie, it's been years! Do you know how quickly his brother settled under Austria's rule? I don't know… I want to start reopening talks about swapping him for his brother. Roma might have the better climate but Italy has the better temperament. Besides, he's so well-behaved! Of course that damned aristocrat would give me the ruder one!"

Naturally, Antonio was extremely worked up now, pacing around his office and waving his hands madly as the words flew out of his mouth. He knew that once the adrenaline wore off and he looked back on what he had said he would regret everything, but for now…

"I never thought having my own henchman would be so troublesome," he huffed, sitting behind his desk and kicking up his feet.

"Good and the bad, _España_. The fun of having a henchman, eh?"

"Perhaps I was mistaken, and Romano isn't worth all the trouble after all."

Another second passed, before the sound of something heavy falling could be heard, alongside high-pitched, muffled cursing.

Antonio was up in a moment, getting to the door in three stride and outside in another two. He did not take kindly to eavesdroppe-

"Romano?"

The Italian stood frozen in fear, a flurry of emotions in his eyes as he saw the older nation. a crate of tomatoes, almost his size, lay on its side beside him. His whole frame was shaking, and more than fear at being caught listening in, Romano looked upset.

"You're just like everyone else…" he whispered, sounding exceptionally monotonous. He refused to raise his gaze off the floor, his hands trembling and clenched into fists.

"Roma?"

"I hate you! If you want my brother so badly then go ask Austria for him! I don't care about you! I don't care now and I never will!" With suspicious-looking pools gathering in his eyes, the Italian viciously wiped at his eyes and ran off.

Antonio stood rooted to the spot, unable to snap out of his daze. Lovino really had managed to overhear everything…

"Go after him." Antonio didn't have to turn around to see who was standing in the doorway.

He didn't move.

" _España_ , if you really want to be the good boss you always hoped to be, you will go after him. He's your colony, you must help him through his problems."

Finally, the Spaniard saw sense and nodded, thanking her before running off.

* * *

Little Romano was high up in one of the towers, huddled in the further point from the door and sobbing.

He had been starting to warm up to Antonio, even if it was just a little. He had thought the damn bastard had cared, damn it!

Of course, like everything else in his life, it had turned out the exact same way.

His brother, precious Feliciano. It was always him.

Lovino hated it, he absolutely hated it. Even back in Grandpa Rome's days everything had been the same.

Damn it!

Feeling another wave of tears coming, Lovino curled up even more. He didn't want to leave the room. Spain was probably looking for him, but still…

"Romano? Romano!" The door was abruptly flung open and a worried, tanned face peered in. He would have recognised that obnoxious voice anywhere.

"G… Go away, you bastard…" He sniffled, shifting as far away from Antonio as he could. "Go find my precious brother just like everyone else."

"Romano… Come on, I wasn't- I didn't mean to…" The Spaniard was at a loss for words, hesitantly walking closer. "I'm sorry, alright? I was angry and stressed out a-"

"And you'd rather have my brother over me," finished Lovino quietly, his voice empty and broken. "It's not fair. Everyone loves my brother so much more. I-It's not fair… I can also…"

More choked sobs. The stress of always having to live up to his brother's talents, his younger brother, no less, was starting to get to him.

"Roma, I never said I didn't believe you could be as good as him, I said that you're not trying. You've given up, haven't you?" Like approaching a startled animal, Antonio kept his voice quiet, soothing, and most of all, understanding.

His plan seemed to have played off, as Lovino shifted slightly on his seat. At least he didn't snap. Instead, he chose to stare out the window almost wistfully.

Following his gaze, it was easy to see what had caught the little Italian's attention.

Outside the palace gates, a band of gypsies were parading past, laughing and dancing as they merrily twirled their way along.

"Roma? are you alri- Oh!" The Spaniard's eyes seemed to shine with fondness as he saw his lightfooted people dancing around.

"Would you like to join them?" He offered kindly, smiling as he did so. Lovino looked so positively enraptured by their grace… Perhaps he could learn something from them?

"No." The voice held a surprising amount of venom in it.

Not to be deterred, the Empire scooted just a little bit closer. "And why not, little Roma?" He whispered softly, doing his best to keep calm.

A soft mumble, and nothing more. In fact, Lovino seemed to curl up on himself a bit more.

" _¿Disculpe?_ " Antonio questioned quietly, furrowing his brow in an attempt to register what the hell he had said.

"I said, you fucking bastard, that that bitch Queen of you-"

"Romano!" Antonio snapped, making the little colony flinch. He could be scary when he wanted to be.

"She... won't let me out of out of the palace because I broke her mirror, the one with pearls or something dumb like that."

"... And we can't let commoners into the palace, either," Antonio finished for him, staring out the window for a few moments. The parade of gypsies was ending, and the last few didn't seem to have the same spring in their step that the first few had.

Seeing Lovino so upset was extremely distressing, and Antonio struggled to think of something to cheer him up.

He brightened, smiling as he did. "Roma, wait here," he said quickly, handing Lovino a very large, very ripe tomato to bribe him into staying put before running out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Lovino curled up a little more, staring out at the empty window and at the bright, cheery tomato in his hands.

Stupid bastard, what did he have in mind this time?

* * *

Soon enough, quick footsteps met Lovino's ears and he looked up just as the Spaniard burst inside, holding two items.

In his right hand he held his favoured guitar, a present from a previous monarch, and in his left hand, he held some sort of flattened drum with little mini cymbols all along the side.

"What's that?" he asked quietly. Despite his best efforts Lovino couldn't help but be curious. He was a child, after all.

" _E_ _s una_ _Tambourine_!" Antonio smiled broadly, sitting down opposite him and handing the strange instrument over to him.

It was soft, and had the feel of soft yet taughtly pulled pigskin over the wooden frame. When it was moved, the tiny cymbol-like things made a most wonderful ringing sound, like soft chimes.

"Can I keep it?" he asked quietly, looking up at the beaming Spaniard.

"Of course!"

As much as Lovino wanted to deny it, he was overjoyed. Maybe the Spanish tomato bastard wasn't so bad after a-

"On one condition," came the same voice. Oh.

Nevermind that, then.

Lovino stared at the beautiful percussion instrument before him, then up at Antonio, then back down at his instrument once again.

Finally, reluctantly, he nodded. "What is it?"

"I'll teach you how to play the tambourine, but in return, I want you to learn to dance, Romano."

Wait. D-dance?

Lovino's previously cheerful (well, relatively) demeanor seemed to have died somewhat, as he stared at the tambourine in his hands. He would simply make a fool out of himself and break a number of objects if he tried to dance, most likely.

"I can't dance," Lovino spat at him angrily, glaring.

"Nonsense! Anyone can dance, little one!" Antonio smiled, his eyes lighting up with a different kind of light. A rather different look to the one he normally had when fighting.

This was a much, ah, healthier passion.

Standing, the tanned nation smiled down at the younger, before striking up a rather fast count of eight and dancing the _Tarantella_.

Quick, small light-footed steps. Antonio hopped and waltzed his way around the room, and it wasn't difficult to imagine him dancing right along with those gallivanting gypsies earlier on.

Dance of his people, indeed.

Lovino soon found himself mesmerised, amazed at the speed and grace required to effortlessly carry out these steps.

Something, he assumed, he would never be able to pull off.

"Come, Romano. It'll be fun, I promise!" The nation smiled at him gently, coming to a stop right in front of him.

Hesitantly, the little colony stared up at him. Lovino had never really been afraid before, but now… The thought of embarrassing himself in front of Antonio, the mighty, great, Spain, was something that was absolutely terrifying.

"What if I screw up?" came the quiet whisper, as Lovino quickly averted his gaze.

"Screw up? Romano, that's all part of learning! Do you know how much the gypsies used to laugh at me when I was trying to learn their dances?"

Lovino was hardly convinced, and though he was standing, still stubbornly refused to look at Antonio.

"Roma, listen," gently, the older nation crouched beside him. "Failing is what everyone does. Even nations have to fall sometimes, understand?"

"No."

Antonio sighed. This might be harder than he thought. "To be a great nation, you have to be careful and learn quickly, true, but you have to learn from your mistakes, and learn new things as they come about. Even great nations stumble and fall sometimes. Does that… Does that make sense?"

Turning the words over in his mind for a few moments, Lovino reluctantly nodded. "I suppose."

"Good. So, learning to dance won't hurt you. Sure, you might fall down a few times, but I'll be the only one to see it, and I promise I won't tell Belgium or Netherlands."

"Promise?"

"I swear it, Roma. I won't tell a soul unless you want me to." Antonio smiled at the little nation. "Now, how about you learn to dance?" Already, the Spaniard was patting himself on the back for a job well done.

"... No."

"What did you say?" An eye twitched. After all he had gone through, Lovino was still saying no?!

That brat.

"I said no. I… I don't want to…" The young child looked away once again, clearly embarrassed.

His whole face, Antonio noted with surprise, was almost as red as the half eaten tomato resting on the sill.

He was embarrassed.

Sighing in defeat, Antonio did something he had never really done before.

He gave in.

"Fine, we can talk about dancing later on. How about we settle that first half of the bargain and I teach you how to play your tambourine?" he offered, a strange feeling in him.

He was Spain, goddamit. Why was he caving into the whims of a colony?

On the other hand, hadn't he been doing that since Lovino had come to stay with him in the beginning?

The young child shuffled around a little, clutching the percussion instrument close to him. It was far too big for him now, but hopefully he would grow into it.

"Alright," he whispered quietly, his usual fire seemingly dead.

Antonio smiled and nodded, sitting down cross-legged opposite him.

"Okay… So let us start with how you hold it…" Gently, the Spaniard guided his young pupil, watching as his eyes, usually filled with resentment and bitterness, slowly grew wide with amazement.

And so their first lesson began

* * *

Weeks had passed since that incident, and already Antonio had noticed improvements.

Not just with his playing, no, though that had been a feat in itself.

Lovino seemed a little more tame, his previously bottled up energy now devoted to playing his little percussion instrument.

Furthermore, his hand-eye co-ordination seemed to have improved somewhat, with much less broken objects being found around the palace, hurriedly hidden away under a carpet or in a side room.

Though, it wasn't just Lovino who seemed to have changed.

Antonio, himself, had started growing more patient with his subordinates. And, in Lovino's case, had even started thinking of ways to reward the little colony.

Seeing how much Lovino loved his instrument, he had started awarding him little colourful ribbons to which he could tie to his tambourine, now his most favoured possession.

They ribbons were a part of a greater plan, indeed. Antonio had seen gypsies from faraway dancing and prancing with similar instruments, their own pretty ribbons fluttering gracefully.

While Lovino's ribbons were pretty and rich, they still hung limp as he played his tambourine. They occasionally rustled or shifted, but for the most part, they were still.

Smiling, Antonio made his way to that same tower, knowing that Lovino was already inside.

The boy had started working harder on his chores, knowing Antonio would refuse to start the lesson until he had finished them all.

Like he expected, Antonio saw Lovino practising the moment he walked inside.

" _Hola_ , Roma!" he giggled a little as he heard how the two rhymed. "Now, I was thinking we could try something a little different today, what do you say?"

Antonio, being rather conniving, had kept Lovino's lessons to nothing but boring drills for the past few days, knowing that he would grow bored and start craving something different.

"What are we going to do, bastard?" Lovino, despite his best efforts, had been unable to properly conceal his excitement.

"You see your ribbons?" Antonio pointed to the long, colourful strips tied to the instrument. He received a slow, puzzled nod.

"Well, today we're going to use them."

"How?" Lovino's tone was rather suspicious, and he ran his hands over the silky pieces of cloth.

"Like this. May I?" The Spaniard reached out, taking the tambourine from him with nothing more than a pout in return.

Smiling, Antonio struck up the same beat he had before, weeks ago. With a practised hand, he effortlessly twirled around the room, tambourine in hand, and coaxed out a beautiful beat from the instrument.

Smiling all the while, he pivoted and whirled around the room, making the ribbons flutter and dance all around him.

It was a sight to behold, and once again, little Lovino found himself completely mesmerised by the sight.

When he finally stopped, panting lightly, Antonio smiled at him.

"How about you learn to do that, too?" he smiled at him. He sincerely hoped the fragile trust they had managed to build up over the past few weeks would amount to something, at least.

This time, the excuse was not that he didn't want to, but rather…

"Can I really learn to do that?"

The boy was doubting himself, Antonio realised sadly.

"Of course you can. You play the tambourine perfectly for a beginner, and the dances I want to teach you aren't nearly as complex. Come, Romano, won't you at least try?"

Antonio bit his lip, expecting him to lash out, to shout and throw a tantrum and storm out. he expected that small, fragile wall of trust they had been trying to build crack and crumble to nothing more than dust, but he was surprised.

Instead, Lovino looked at the expectant Spaniard, thinking for a few minutes.

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"I won't."

"Swear?"

" _Lo juro por mi vida_ ," Antonio promised softly, hardly daring to breathe.

Slowly, painfully, ever so slowly, Lovino nodded. "A-alright then, you bastard…"

Antonio could have jumped for joy.

With carefully measured out patience, Antonio applied the same techniques as the previous week, and started teaching his young pupil the elegant art of _Tarantella_.

* * *

Antonio had suggested, a few lessons in, that they name Lovino's precious Tambourine. The child had consented, but, unable to think of a name, had turned to his guardian for advice once again.

After sitting in silence for a while, Antonio and Lovino had periodically stopped their lesson to bounce names off each other.

An hour passed, then two. Nothing seemed to satisfy the little Italian, not even names he had suggested himself. The child would frown crossly and huff, immediately shaking his head and rejecting every name that either one of them came up with.

Finally, Antonio had suggested _Brio_ , hoping that the name would give the instrument life and strength, and in turn, transfer that same musical vigour to its owner.

Lovino, after pretending to think for a while, had nodded in assent. It had a nice ring to it, after all.

* * *

Weeks passed, and Lovino proved to be a capable pupil when he put his mind to it. _Brio_ was well suited to him, and the two paired well together. Lovino, in this case, performed much better when there was a huge incentive for him to do well.

Unknown to Antonio, it was the not the pretty ribbons or the increased muscle co-ordination that encouraged him to keep learning the dance, but rather the sense of accomplishment. The thought that, finally, he was good at something.

Antonio made sure he knew that. That he was not inferior to his brother in any way, and that he was special in his own right.

Young nations, he knew, were often confused by the fine line between being a country, and being a human. Their emotions were toyed with, more priority given to their obedience and loyalty over their more… Human traits.

It destroyed humans, and broke nations.

That was why, the first time Antonio had seen Lovino smile had been the happiest moment he had had in awhile.

It had been when Lovino had managed to dance his way through the first set of steps Antonio had taught him without issue. No fumbling, stumbling, tripping. Nothing.

He moved almost as gracefully as Antonio had.

This surprised the older nation greatly, but he hid it well. Just like Antonio had thought, learning the art of dance and music had not only curved the child's temper, but also contributed to Lovino's increase in hand-eye co-ordination.

Antonio's reaction aside, it was Lovino's own acknowledgement of his own talents that had been all worth it.

The child had finished the set and simply stood there, dazed. Then, slowly but surely, his lips had started to curve upwards, and soon a spark was in his eyes.

"Did you see that? I did it! I did it, you bastard! I did the steps!" Excited chocolate eyes met Antonio's own, and he found Lovino's beaming smile infectious.

"You should smile more, Roma," he had commented, which led to an embarrassed flush and an angry stomping of adorable little feet.

"I smile when I want to, bastard!"

Antonio shook his head, smiling gently all the while, and gently pressed Lovino's tambourine into his hand.

"Again, _with_ your instrument this time."

Nodding with determination, Lovino righted the ribbons on _Brio_ before he lightly danced around the room, twirling and whirling just like Antonio had.

Considering he had to multitask and focus on both his instrument and his steps, it was no wonder he occasionally mis-stepped or skipped a bit. Once again, Antonio wasn't overly fussed.

"Great, now we just need to work on your form." Lovino was learning, and he was doing so really was more than he could ask for.

Lovino nodded with newfound eagerness.

* * *

As Lovino slowly mastered the basic steps and beats to his dance, Antonio had started giving him more complex routines to learn, with different sorts of beats to coax out of his tambourine.

 _Brio_ was a wonderful companion to him, and acted as a constant reminder to the young colony that he wasn't alone, that he was skilled and elegant in his own way.

Occasionally, Antonio would reward him by giving him more ribbons to switch out and replace as he pleased. Or, on really special occasions, mostly when Lovino had been showing great improvement (Through his general behaviour or his lessons), he would bring his guitar along and strum to a beat that Lovino so chose.

Much to his delight, the number of those happy, special occasions seemed to be growing.

Slowly, their bond seemed to be growing, and so their days passed, quiet and peaceful. Music had become his escape.

Lovino winced as he felt his arms twitch. He thought he had finally gotten it under control. He didn't understand what was wrong, but he knew that it was something serious.

A second jerk, this time more violent, and the plates that Lovino had been carrying from the scullery were abruptly sent towards their doom, shattering against the hard, tiled floor.

Lovino froze in his tracks, too terrified to call out for Spain, for anyone to come and help him.

The other servants had noticed his improvement, and had showered him in small words of praise, occasionally ruffling his hair or giving him some sweets.

He had grown to love the affection, despite doing his best to hide it, and the last thing he wanted to do was to lose their approval… Especially Antonio's.

He stood there in a ring of shattered porcelain and glass, terrified out of his wits.

" _¿Qué hiciste, pequeño tirano?!_ " hissed an angry Spanish voice.

The words flowed easily, their melodious words holding a barely-veiled undertone of anger.

No mere servant, no, not even a noble would dare to speak to a nation in this manner, except for…

" _Su Majestad_ ," he breathed out softly, his inner fear finally betrayed.

Though Lovino was slow to accept it himself, he knew that it was Her Majesty's approval he had been trying to win all along.

Antonio had quickly accepted him, and stopped all talk of swapping him with his brother, but the Queen was a completely different matter.

Despite how much his dear _España_ insisted that he would never swap him for Feliciano, Lovino knew that it was the Queen who held the final decision in her hands. And so far, she had been all for it.

He had been working so hard, mostly to please Antonio and show him he was just as useful as Feliciano, but there was a small, quiet side of him that knew.

He had to prove the Queen's perception of him wrong.

Lovino was not inferior to Feliciano in any way, Antonio had told him that!

He turned and faced the glowering monarch, her pretty jewels and rich silks contrasting sharply with her ugly, angered expression (In Lovino's opinion)

"I… I was just…"

" _¡En español!_ " howled the angered queen, not daring to step closer because of the ring of glass around him. Lovino could have rolled his eyes at her words.

Of course the Queen would want him to speak in Spanish.

He opened his mouth, struggling to find the words to explain himself. Nothing but irrelevant Spanish words and his own Italian phrases appeared in his head. Where would he start? _How_ would he start? What was the point if she was already so incredibly angry with him?

"Um…"

She snorted, eyes flashing. "Useless nation," She spat in perfect Italian. "What's the point of you wasting our resources to keep you if your people are stubborn and lazy? You've caused nothing but trouble for me and Spain. Why did we have to get you? _Years_ we have spent trying to teach you culture and language, and you've been more stubborn than a lame mule! Why couldn't you have turned out like the other Italy? _Answer me, Romano!_ "

Terror was reflected in his eyes. The self-confidence and love Antonio had been so carefully building up was shattered in an instant, leaving nothing but a shell behind.

Over the past few weeks Lovino had been trying so incredibly, _incredibly_ hard to focus on improving himself. Now he was starting to question it.

So what if he could play an instrument or if he could dance? His dexterity and muscle co-ordination had improved, yes, but what was the point of all that if people still saw his brother as the better one?

Was this… Was this what Antonio and the others thought too?

The young Italian felt tears burning in his eyes. Their smiling, laughing faces. He had started dancing in front of some of the nicer servants, under Antonio's supervision.

Had they not been smiling, but silently mocking him instead? The thought itself burned a harsh mark in his flesh. And Antonio…

What if he had never really halted talks with Austria about swapping him for his brother? What if… What if…

" _Mi Reina_ ," a soft, deep voice called.

A familiar, tanned Spaniard appeared in from the shadows, his eyes glimmering with a hint of danger.

"My Queen, please. He is but a child," Antonio murmured softly, bowing low before his ruler.

For his troubles he received a harsh whack on his head and a few choice words. Lovino understood everything she said and even _he_ cringed. that definitely had to mean something.

Staring down at his feet, the younger nation shifted uncomfortably, his feet accidentally sending a piece of glass knocking into another, making a little clink sound.

Both squabbling adults looked over at him, and if possible, his face turned redder.

Antonio glanced between him and the Queen, before walking over and swiftly picking him up and carrying him out of the danger zone, like he had months ago.

" _Vamos a continuar esta discusión después, mi Reina. Por ahora, tengo una lección con mi Colonia_." His little argument with the Queen could wait. For now, he had promised his Colony a music lesson, had he not?

* * *

Lovino hugged his knees to his chest as Antonio set him down finally, in the same tower they always used.

"Are you really going to exchange me for my brother?" His voice was weaker than expected, and he quietly cursed himself for his weakness.

"No, Roma. I've said this before, you're just as special as your brother. I like to visit him, sure, but that doesn't mean I want him over you." Antonio's voice was gentle, though nonchalant, as he slowly started tuning his guitar.

Silence. Lovino was distracted, pondered over his words as he looked around for his tambourine.

"Now have you been practising the set I told you to?" Antonio questioned, raising his gaze for a moment to look at him.

Lovino had fetched _Brio_ and was making sure the ribbons he liked were on it. Though, his hands were uncharacteristically shaky and he found himself unable to focus well enough.

"Huh?" he mumbled, looking slightly dazed. He hadn't really caught what the Spaniard had been saying.

"I _said_ , Roma, have you been practising well?"

Lovino hesitated slightly, before nodding. He had, he really had, but then again… After what had happened just now, he was worried he wouldn't remember.

Antonio was a demanding teacher, after all.

"Focus, Romano. When you're here, nothing else matters. I said I don't want to swap you with your brother, and I promise I'll convince the Queen not to, either. Alright?" he murmured softly, noticing the troubled look in his eyes.

"B-But…"

Without warning, the older nation set aside his guitar, walking over to the younger and pulled him into a tight, comforting hug, tambourine and all.

"You're just as deserving as your brother or anyone else, understand?" He murmured, voice soft yet determined. "You've improved so much lately…"

Lovino felt tears springing into his eyes. This was so different from the usual, angry tears that flowed from his eyes when he was alone.

He found himself wrapping his arms around Antonio's neck, hugging him tightly and silently weeping. No one, no one, had ever taken so much effort to make sure he felt appreciated. That he had something to call his own. No one.

" _Grazie_ ," he mumbled, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

"Lovi…"

"F-Fine… _Gracias…_ " he grumbled, though he still sounded quite touched.

"Better." Antonio gently rubbed his back, patiently waiting until the young nation managed to pull himself together.

It took a long time, but Antonio never made any fuss about it. How could he, when he knew Lovino had needed to cry out his emotions for such a long time? That he had needed to be patient and tear down his walls, that this had all been worth it.

"Feeling better?" He murmured softly, once he sensed the soft hiccups and tears cease.

There was a quiet little pause, before Lovino pulled away, rubbing his eyes. He nodded, still adorably hugging his (rather large) tambourine to his chest.

"Good," Antonio stood, smiling and offering a hand to him. "Now come on, it's time for your lesson."

"B-"

"Later, Lovino. _Emitir sus preocupaciones por el momento y disfrutar del presente_. Cast your worries away for now and enjoy the present."

Another encouraging smile, and Lovino was coaxed to stand, ready to show Antonio how hard he had been working.

"Ready?"

Antonio's voice was quiet yet encouraging. He had learned to coax and wheedle the young colony into doing what he was embarrassed to. Out of all his techniques, he had found gentle understanding the most effective.

"Ready."

Lovino focused on the present, fidgeting slightly with nervousness. Antonio smiled and righted his guitar, ready to play the main melodic line.

"Good. Now, _Bailemos_ , Roma! Let us dance!"

 _ **~End~**_

* * *

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read this! I really appreciate it! reviews are always welcome and I try to act on them best I can. This is my first piece of Hetalia writing, so it would be great to have feed back on my writing style and characterization, if possible. Also, a few historical liberties were taken. If there's anything major please don't hesitate to point it out in a review! Cheers and hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it!

Just a few notes. _Brio_ , in musical terms, means Vigour or lively, which I thought was cute and fitting. Also, you don't have to translate the Spanish to roughly understand what's going on. Just sayin', but go ahead if you want to. Also, the ideas ha Lovino had Chorea as a child was the main driving force behind the story, but I personally enjoy the idea of him having Huntington's Disease more. Either way works. Also, I wrote this under the assumption that back in the day, they would have had no idea that it was a disease, and simply attributed it to a number of other things - laziness, stubbornness, etc.


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